THE BLISS OF ATHIESM

A theist,

With all grace, and gratitude,

Irrevocably offers,

The morning, and evening prayers, daily,

Prostrates, before his darling, almighty;

With all,

Rites and rituals, flowers and incense;

Cleanses, and clothes a new,

Beautifies wonderfully, his dear deity,

On special, ceremonial occasions;

And observes charity, feast and festivals;

At minute, or major events,

Of life,

Invites, the sacrosanct priests, near and far;

To perform prayers, purify and sanctify,

Each and all,

Murmuring, and making scriptural chants,

Sermonizing, religious texts and teachings;

Invoking the God, the Supreme Being,

Master of all;

On kindred, and kindling advices,

Walks, thousands kilometers,

On high peaks, pebble cavernous paths,

Elbows deep, and knees hard, through it;

Dives and drowns into sacred tanks,

Though filthiest water,

Full of, gobbling pests and parasites there;

Observes, fast with fortitude,

On His name, for several severe days;

A handsome copious time, of his limited life,

Frantically devotes, to such deeds;

With the hope of, happy and healthy life,

Let the immortal, and divine blessing,

As nectar, may shower to him and his door;

Bringing all shapes of power, property and prosperity;

Of own, and dear ones,

To evade and efface all evils,

From within or without;

The cruelest fear, of death and dangers,

All omens, scaring and tearing the soul,

Benumbing his veins and brains,

Makes him feeble and fragile,

Paralysis to real human’s form and action;

Lead him, to such ineffective, and vain moves.

Beside all these,

An atheist, makes his own realm,

Makes own ways, and masters all circumstances;

Never wastes, his precious hours,

In such fickle and futile tracts;

He weaves, his happy hours,

And walks, majestically in it;

He knows well, of the prominent principle,

None of his gain, should grow on other’s pain;

He works,

To the best of his caliber and capacity,

To satisfy, his worldly needs;

Without a bit thought of,

Time’s favour and divine miracles;

By performing, nonsense ceremonies, and rubbish rituals;

He never chases mirages, mindlessly,

And lives in real reality,

Of things and situations;

Never relies, on fate and favor,

Crippling and paralyzing, the innate strength,

Like an emperor,

Of his own land and latitude,

He holds, his own command,

Of all choices and occurrences of life;

And never engages, in the mindless job,

Of coward people;

Yielding to the knees,

Before untrue and unreal powers.

Living life, of one’s own accord,

And smiling both in woes and weal;

Is a great and grand task of heroism,

In fact, the bliss of atheism.